Harry Potter and the Demonslayer
by Mendiana
Summary: As Harry enters his 6th year dealing with grief, he hears of a new prophecy and a new ally, but who is the Demonslayer? HPGW, RWHG, super!OC, notquitesuperbutprettygood!Harry. Rating just in case.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I swear I don't own Harry Potter or any related concepts besides any characters not immediately recognizeable from JKR's work. Please don't pop my brains with legalese!

**Summary:** As Harry enters his 6th year, he struggles with the implications of the prophecy and the grief he feels over Sirius' death. And what is the "power the Dark Lord knows not?" What does this new prophecy mean? And who is the Demonslayer? HG, RH, OCOC, Super!OC, independent!OC, notsuperbutprettygood!Harry, notquiteindependentbutsullen!Harry.

**A/N:** This is my first fic, so give me some time to get used to the concept here.

_**Chapter 1: Grief O'erwhelming**_

At number 4 Privet Drive, the three constant residents, the Dursleys, might have you think that everything about them was normal. They wore normal clothes, they ate normal things, and they acted like normal people all around. However, for three months of the year, there was one slightly abnormal resident. Harry Potter was a wizard. A famous wizard, in fact. For five years, he'd been attending the Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and had been through far too many adventures for a boy of 15. Well, 16 at this point.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," he muttered to himself as the clock struck midnight on July 31. At a slight noise on his window, he turned to see 3 owls there. One was Errol, the Weasley family owl, bearing letters and gifts, one tawny owl he didn't recognize, and one final, jet black owl bearing a long, thin package. He looked around for an owl from Sirius before he realized what he was doing, then broke down again. He sat down hard on the floor, tears welling up into his eyes.

'My fault, my fault, my fault," he though, over and over again. He still blamed himself for his godfather's altogether untimely demise. Last year, he had been tricked by Voldemort into taking himself and some of his friends to the Department of Mysteries to save his godfather, or so he thought. His godfather, had not, in fact, been there, but had later appeared to save harry, but ended up dying by his cousin's hand. It had been horrible for Harry to watch, and he blamed himself.

Finally overcoming his grief for a little while, he took the presents from the silent owls and set about opening them. As they flew off, he began opening the presents from the Weasleys. He opened Mrs. Weasley's package first, receiving his customary gift of food, which he hid with the rest of his stash under the loose floorboard before turning to Ron's gift. Opening the letter, he began to read.

_Harry, mate,_

_Happy Birthday! I hope you have a good one. Everything's been tense over here at HQ, There's been a lot of mourning and stuff, and Mum's really angry that we found out about the prophecy._

Harry had told all his friends about the prophecy in his first letter to them and had also instructed his friends to inform everyone at Grimmauld Place.

_But, we're all here, even Hermione. And, mate, for some reason, I can't get her out of my mind. I don't understand this at all. I mean, she's just my friend. Oh, well. I needn't burden you with my problems. Oh, and sorry, but you can't come to Headquarters this summer. Dumbledore says that now that You-Know-Who can't hide anymore, he won't even be trying. We'll pick you up on September 1st._

_Best Wishes,_

_Ron_

_P.S. I hope you enjoy your gift!_

Harry snorted at Ron's lack of tact. He'd managed to bring up every topic Harry _didn't_ want to think about. Opening his gift from Ron, he found an orange hat with black lettering proudly labeling it a **Cannon's Cap!** with precisely five exclamation points. Shaking his head in lament of his friend's poor social skills, Harry moved on to Hermione's letter.

_Harry,_

_Happy Birthday! I hope you have a good one._

Harry let out a laugh at her unwitting quotation of Ron.

_How's your summer been? Ours isn't going so well. Everyone has been a bit upset since the Department of Mysteries. There's been a lot of sorrow and tears, and Ron's Mum is somewhat annoyed that you told us the prophecy._

_But, Harry, get this: I can't stop thinking about Ron! Ron Weasley! I don't really know anything about this. I mean, we're only friends. Ah, well._

_See you on the 1st,_

_Hermione Granger_

Harry let out a full-throated laugh at the way Hermione and Ron managed to say the exact same things, but in different words. Opening his gift from her, he found a book entitled _The Death of a Loved One: Grief and How To Cope._

"She's just as bad as he is. Honestly!" he murmured. Opening the final letter and package, which were labeled as coming from Ginny Weasly, he hoped she'd have more tact than her brother or Hermione.

_Dear Harry,_

_Isn't that the most trite beginning you've ever heard? It's so formal and boring, and it's the first part anyone reads. Whenever I read that, I'm tempted to put down the letter out of fear the rest of it will be boring. Well, anyways, Happy Birthday! I hope your summer's been going well. Mine sure hasn't. Ron and Hermione are pussyfooting around each other again, refusing to admit that they actually do like each other. Hermione's too proud to admit she didn't know something about herself for years, and Ron's to proud to admit he feels anything out of fear of rejection. Of course, the only way to get rid of these blocks is to get rid of their pride, so I've decided to destroy that by embarassing them in as many places as possible, such as setting up pranks that put them very close together, then walking in on them. But Mum's had us working on cleaning up this house since we got here._

The rest of Ginny's letter was a diatribe on the cleaning of Gimmauld Place, full of amusing anecdotes and random ramblings finally ending in

_I can't wait to see you on the 1st!_

_See you soon,_

_Ginny_

Harry stared, astounded at Ginny's insight. This had been exactly what he needed. Not a single thing in that letter reminded him of the Ministry. Opening her gift, he found another, smaller book entitled _101 Funniest Magical Mistakes._ It was the perfect remedy for his grief. Setting it aside for now, he opened the letter from the tawny owl, which was apparently from Dumbledore. As he began to read the letter, Harry's hackles went up.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_True to my word, I have owled you to inform you of something very important. Earlier today on the 31st, a Seer made another prophecy believed to be of concern to you. I was present for this, and here is the text verbatim._

Harry was appalled. Another prophecy? About him? He decided that he'd better cut to the chase and began reading.

"_The Dark Lord comes, and the predecessor to this prophecy is destroyed. Soon, one overlooked shall join the one chosen in love to defeat the Dark Lord, but only once he has been joined by t_wo _from out of time. Those two shall teach the Chosen before they turn on each other. Only two of them shall emerge from this. In the Dark Lord's victory, shall emerge the two from out of time, but in the Chosen's victory, only he and his beloved will come away. Only he and his beloved..."_

Most of this new prophecy was pure gibberish to Harry. Two from out of time? What was that supposed to mean? Harry shook his head as he thought of the one part he did understand; he was going to find his true love before he killed Voldemort. That was a startling thought. He thought through all the girls he knew, lingering over none of them. Hermione and Ginny were both very nice, but Hermione and Ron were obviously meant for each other, and Ginny was, just, well, flatly unattractive when he last saw her. He shook his head, thinking he had yet to meet the person. Finally, he moved on to his last present, and a short note of unknown origin.

_Potter,_

_Hold onto this. It'll be useful at school._

_D.S._

Who was DS? Harry shrugged it off and opened the package. Inside, he found two sheathes, one shorter than the other. He carefully drew each weapon out of his sheath. He drew the shorter blade, which was curved, and examined its sheath. It was clearly emblazoned 'Wakazashi.' The other, longer blade, had a sheath with 'Katana' written on it. But who would be sending him swords? And why?

**A/N: **Sorry for all the typos in the first edition of this. I wrote it kind of late last night. Or, rather, this morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I swear I don't own Harry Potter or any related concepts besides any characters not immediately recognizeable from JKR's work. Please don't pop my brains with legalese!

**Summary:** As Harry enters his 6th year, he struggles with the implications of the prophecy and the grief he feels over Sirius' death. And what is the "power the Dark Lord knows not?" What does this new prophecy mean? And who is the Demonslayer? HG, RH, OCOC, Super!OC, independent!OC, notsuperbutprettygood!Harry, notquiteindependentbutsullen!Harry.

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews from everyone so far. I appreciate whatever level of support I get.

_**Chapter 2: All's Quiet on the Home Front...**_

The next morning, Harry woke up, and for the first time since the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't been dreaming about Sirius. Instead, it was something involving a brown rabbit, a laser gun, and a race car. He laughed at the concept of Professor Trelawney trying to decipher that dream. "The rabbit means many children, but the laser gun means genocide. The race car stands for speed. Obviously, you are to have many children, but they will all be viciously slaughtered very soon after. And are you sure you didn't see a Grim in there dear? Because you are bound to _die. DIE!_" said the old bat in his mind. He could always cheer himself up by thinking of Trelawney, simply because she was such an amusing old fraud, in retrospect. Harry's thoughts were cut short, however, at a ferocious knocking on his door.

"BOY! Get up and make brekfast!" shouted his Uncle Vernon, possibly the most bigoted and jealous man of the millenium. Well, no, because in this millenium they had slaves. So possibly just the most bigoted man of the decade, or perhasps of the century.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon. Right away," sighed Harry. After brekfast, he'd be given a list of chores to do, which would take him all day, and then at dinner, his Aunt and Uncle would make up some chore and say he hadn't done it so as to forbid him dinner. He'd even tried just doing every single chore he could think of and was forbidden from dinner because he didn't wash behind his ears that morning. He'd given up trying and had even begun to simply not do the hardest chore on his list. Of course, he didn't have a chance at threats or "magical expedience." He couldn't even defend himself in the case of an attack, as his wand had been confiscated at the beginning of break.

As Harry sturggled downstairs and began fixing some eggs and bacon, each and every one of his relatives was popping in and requesting special brekfasts.

"Boy, I want my eggs scrambled."

"Wretch, make my eggs over easy."

"Hey, freak, I want fried eggs this morning."

"I want sausage, not bacon!"

"I want cheese!"

Harry, of course, dutifully complied. It was easier than getting yelled at, but he seethed quietly inside. Just as he finished sorting all the food out on the table, he felt something prick into the back of his neck. "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" yelled Mad Eye in the recesses of his brain.

"Long time, no see, boy." said Malfoy. Luciius Malfoy had somehow found his way into 4 Privet Drive. But before he even thought about it, Harry was swinging around, and Malfoy was suddenly down on the ground, unconcious and in pain as he had just been hit in the face with a grease-filled cast iron skillet. Before the other nine Death Eaters could retaliate, Harry had dashed around the corner and was halfway upstairs. AS one of the Death Eatrs came around and raised his wand from right next to the stairs, he had the same skillet dropped flat on his head. Slipping into his room, Harry quickly cast about for any method of escape. Finding none and hearing footsteps just outside his room, Harry took another glance around for weapons. Finding only his katana and wakazashi, Harry quickly drew them both, putting the wakazashi in his left hand and the katana in his right. Looking out the window, he saw ten Order members strewn about his lawn. As the door burst open, Harry was already stabbing through the rubble.As he hit fat, the dust cleared and he saw his last three remaining relatives dead by the Death Eaters hands. They had then pushed Dudley into the room first as a whale-sized sheild of fat. Then, as suddenly as the door had burst open, Harry's cousin was thrown forward onto the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry, trapped under a body at least three times his weight, was stuck.

"Well, Potter, are you ready to join your mangy dog of a godfather in death?" asked the cold, feminine voice.

"Damn you, Lestrange! Damn you to hell!" spit Harry. In what he thought was a last act of defiance, he spit striaght into Lestrange's face.

"Well, Potter. Defiant to the last, eh? I hope you enjoyed that. However, I don't have time to make this any more painful, so you're just going to have to die. So long." replied Bellatrix gleefully. Harry closed his ees and wished for everthing he'd never had. He wished he'd had parents, he wished he'd had a chance to say goodbye to Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. He wished he'd had a chance to reconcile his problems with Dumbledore. He wished he'd been able to help Remus through his grief. He wished, above all, he'd been able to savea the world as he was prophesized to. Now, hoever, all of those cfhances had been taken from him and the wizarding world was doomed.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ shreiked Bellatrix Lestrange, finally about to destroy the Boy-Who-Lived once and for all.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Professor Albus Dumbledore felt the gathering of power that signified the end of Harry James Potter. He then put his head in his hands and cried.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

At the Burrow, two people suddenly felt a deep, preliminary wave of grief hit them, and knew what it meant. Harry Potter was about to die. Ginny Weasley and Ron Wealey collapsed in tears on the spot.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

In the middle of Muggle London, Hermione Granger suddenly fell against her father in tears as she felt her best friend's prelude to death.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

At Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Remus Lupin cried into his sheets. He'd failed another one of his friends because he'd been a werewolf the night before.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

As the unstoppable green light was rushing towards Harry, he closed his eyes and felt out for his friends. In his last moments, his life and regrets began to flash before his eyes.

**A/N:** I do love cliffies. Espeically melodramatic ones like this. Now that the suspense has built, we'll just have to see when I update next. ;) But seriously, I'll try to update soon, but school and stuff may get in the way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I swear I don't own Harry Potter or any related concepts besides any characters not immediately recognizable from JKR's work. Please don't pop my brains with legalese!

**Summary:** As Harry enters his 6th year, he struggles with the implications of the prophecy and the grief he feels over Sirius' death. And what is the "power the Dark Lord knows not?" What does this new prophecy mean? And who is the Demonslayer? HG, RH, OCOC, Super!OC, independent!OC, notsuperbutprettygood!Harry, notquiteindependentbutsullen!Harry.

_**Chapter 3: Enter the Demonslayer**_

_Last chapter:_

As the unstoppable green light was rushing towards Harry, he closed his eyes and felt out for his friends. In his last moments, his life and regrets began to flash before his eyes.

_Back to the story:_

Suddenly, a loud thump resounded through the entire house. Before the Killing Curse had covered even half the distance between Bellatrix and Harry, the wall facing the outside burst inwards. As the means of Harry's death impacted harmlessly on some flying rubble, two cloaked and hooded figures stepped through the aftermath of this impact.

"Fools!" shrieked Bellatrix. "How dare you interfere in my killing of this whelp? Who are you?"

"I?" replied the taller of the two figures. "I am the Demonslayer." His voice and stature suggested that he was no older than perhaps twenty-five, but possibly as young as sixteen. His voice, however, exuded an air of power. "And this is my trusty sidekick." Those in the room could _feel_ the glare sent from the shorter one.

"We agreed on comrade, companion, and fellow traveler as my introductions! I explicitly demanded that I not be called sidekick!" This voice was decidedly feminine, but reeked of the same sense of power.

"Hey, I can think of much worse titles than sidekick. You could be lover, consort, etc.," shot back the first one.

"You wouldn't _dare_," replied the girl, her voice full of friendly venom.

"Hey, I don't have to let you hit me!"

"You've been doing it for years, you will now!"

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

"Will not!"

"Will too!"

"Quiet, fo-!"

"Shut up, Bella! Will not!"

"Will too!"

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"Oh, right. Back to the subject at hand. I dare because I could overpower you with a flick of my wrist, Bellatrix Lestrange. You could bring nothing against me that I could not defeat." This came from the male, his voice suddenly switching from childishly argumentative to deadly serious.

"I am the favorite of the Dark Lord! I can beat all wizards but he!" shrieked Lestrange. "None can stand against his might!"

"Well, except us. Either one of us two, really, could take him and all his Death Eaters, in all likelihood. Maybe you'd get a lucky shot in on her, no offense, but there's no way you could handle me."

"No offense taken. You ARE better than me."

"Anyhow, I will not let Harry die until he's done his job. Attempting to kill him while I'm watching is punishable by death."

"You may be full of bravado, fool, but you will eat your words," spat Bellatrix. "_A-!"_'

Before she could even finish the second syllable of the killing curse, both of the newcomers had drawn katanas and leaped forward. Suddenly, the Demonslayer blurred out of sight, and the girl stopped in her tracks. Gaping holes began to appear in the Death Eaters until only Bellatrix was left, not even having finished the "_Avada."_ Suddenly, she felt a sharp prick on the back of her neck and stopped in shock.

"H-how?" stammered Bellatrix. "How are you that fast?"

"That's for me to know," said the boy in a deathly calm voice. "And for you to die wondering." And before anything else could be said, Bellatrix Lestrange gained a new steel growth from her neck.

As all this was occurring, the girl had doubled back and heaved Dudley's body off of Harry with relative ease.

"There you go, Potter. Anyone else in the house that we need to take care of?"

"T-two men, unconscious downstairs," stuttered Harry. He'd met the DS who'd sent him his katana and wakazashi, but Harry was was appalled at the raw speed exhibited by the Slayer. As the girl made her way downstairs to deal with the remaining Death Eaters, the Demonslayer began to speak.

"Yes, Harry, I'd be afraid, too. Trust me. I WAS afraid when I first found out that I could do that. It was right in the middle of one of my toughest fights ever, right as I was about to die. Just blinked out of the way of an attack and was doing that without knowing how until I gained control. It was a loooooong fight." Now Harry was torn between fear and awe at the way a man so young could shrug off killing eight Death Eaters as if it were nothing.

"Dealt with!" came the voice, echoing up the stairs.

"Oops, sorry, Harry. Gotta get outta here. Keep holding onto those blades, and don't blame yourself for people around you dying! It's a war, it happens!" And just as quickly as Harry's savior had come, he left. Harry fell onto his rear and just sat, amazed and awed and the display of raw power and carelessness he had just witnessed.

About 30 seconds after the short battle, Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, and Arthur Weasley burst into number 4 Privet Drive. They walked slowly up to Harry's room, trying as best they could to brace themselves for the worst. They had already seen Petunia and Vernon Dursley dead in their sitting room with not a mark on them. When they entered Harry's room, the last thing they had expected to see was Harry sitting in the middle of the floor with a sword and a dagger and Death Eater bodies strewn about and the body of his cousin lying face down by the door. Remus burst in and hugged Harry, crying tears of joy at seeing his best friend's son still alive after so many had felt his magic prepare for death.

"Harry!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "Did you do this?"

"No," replied Harry slowly. "This was the work of the Demonslayer." At this, Dumbledore started.

"The Demonslayer?" he murmured. "Could it be...?" At this the old headmaster shook his head. "Did you see this Harry?"

"Yes," said Harry shortly. He then began to relate his story.

"Wait, Harry," interrupted Dumbledore. "Are you saying that there was only a dull thump, and then this whole wall blew open? The entire thing?"

"Yes. That's the only thing I heard," said Harry before he continued.

"A young man and a young woman" said Dumbledore, interrupting once again. "Did they have any accenting to their voices?"

"Now that I think of it, they were decidedly American sounding."

"Ah. Please continue."

"Wait. He blurred _out of sight?_ Are you sure he wasn't Apparating?"

"I'm positive, sir. That was the weirdest thing about his whole attack. It was completely and totally silent except for the death cries and such. His movements were entirely unpredictable and silent."

"That's... appalling. Well, that's all I have for questions. Now, Harry, you obviously can't live here anymore, so you'll be moving to Headquarters. Are you alright with that?"

"Oh, yes, that's fine."

"Are you sure it won't bring up any bad memories or anything?" asked Remus apprehensively.

"Well, I suppose I'll feel grief and such, but I don't really feel any guilt anymore."

"What? What made your guilt suddenly disappear?" asked Dumbledore. This was the quickest case of recovery from false guilt he'd ever said.

"It was the last thing the Slayer said to me. He said 'Don't blame yourself for people around you dying! It's a war, it happens!' and I realized that was true. It is a war, and i can't take the blame for every single casualty, no matter how important I may be to the war effort. Something in how he said it made it seem like he understood. It was weird."

"Alright then, Harry," said Arthur. "I think it's time for you to get going. Here's some Floo Powder. Gather your stuff and head on over to Headquarters, okay?"

"Alright, Mr. Weasley."

After Harry had put together his trunk, he took a pinch of Floo Powder.

"Order Headquarters!" shouted Harry, and he disappeared in a plume of green flames.

**A/N:** Well, that was an interesting chapter. I love those two characters of mine. I hope you will too.


End file.
